Pleasant Awakening
by Piloco
Summary: It's a cycle. An endless play that's been reenacted countless times throughout history and though the pieces and players may change it always ends the same. This is simply the nature of their world and nothing, not even a god, can change that. But this isn't their world is it? Remnant gets some visitors and, for better or worse, they're here to stay. Demon/Dark/Blood/RWBY Crossover
1. Arrival

**Alright let's get this out of the way.**

**You might notice how this seems to be more of a Bloodborne/RWBY crossover than a Dark Souls/RWBY crossover. Well two things:**

**1: It's actually a crossover between Rwby and Demon's Souls, Dark Souls, AND Bloodborne. Why will be 'revealed' (I'm a fan of Miyazaki's 'some details, mostly hints' storytelling) in the story, or you could PM me and I'll be happy to explain it for you.**

**2\. There isn't even a Bloodborne fanfic section yet let alone a crossover one so if people are really insistent then I'll change it as soon as I can, but until then it's here to stay.**

**Also I do not own RWBY, Demon's Souls, Dark Souls, or Bloodborne.**

**And here we go.**

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It was raining. A soft breeze swept through the forest.

He fell on the ground gasping for air, which he might not need. Pushing himself up he ignored what looked like a chunk of the night sky floating nearby and made his way to the ornate coffin lying near him.

She came first; now and always.

He only lifted the lid enough to stick his head in; he didn't know what water would do to her. After a minute he stepped back, good, she wasn't hurt, and closed the top. He half walked half stumbled over to the mass of cosmos and took a breath. He raised his hand and with a swipe of his hand the hole closed, leaving no trace of it having ever existed at all.

One could be forgiven for thinking that for a moment his hand had resembled a claw.

He made his way back to the coffin now completely stumbling, so it wasn't very surprising when he finally tripped and landed partly on the ground but his front splayed over the coffin. He eventually lost the fight to keep his eyes open and fell asleep.

And then he dreamed.

(-)

Glynda Goodwitch silently looked out onto the Emerald Forest from inside of the Bullhead. In the seats behind her team JNPR sat with the Valkyrie girl talking excitedly about what sounded like a dream she'd had while Mr. Arc and Ms. Nikos listened on with the look of one who's heard a story enough times to tell it themselves and Ren correcting her often enough to prove he could.

Ozpin had requested she, and JNPR after realizing the potential for a (relatively) safe evaluation, investigate unusual Grimm activity in the Emerald Forest. And while it wasn't strange for the Grimm to converge on points, most often the result of a very unfortunate hiker, what was strange was that the Grimm seemed to be actively _avoiding_ the area. Along with all the cameras in the area going down Ozpin, and all the other teachers, were very eager to discover the cause.

At least it had stopped raining.

After they'd finally landed, just outside the dead zone they weren't sure if it was just cameras or all electronics, Glynda stood silently waiting for Jaune to decide on what they're next course of action would be, this was an evaluation after all. After looking at her nervously for a few seconds, he finally looked to his team and spoke up "A-Alright we're looking for something that's messing with the cameras, so everyone split up into pairs Nora you're with Ren, Pyrrha with me, and um-" he glanced nervously at Ms. Goodwitch.

"I am sufficient on my own Mr. Arc," Glynda responded.

"R-right and call in when you find something," he looked back to her, "right?"

Glynda nodded silently and began making her way through the trees.

After she left Pyrrha patted Jaune on the shoulder reassuringly, eliciting a small smile in response and they moved off in a different direction than their teacher had taken while Nora zipped off into the forest with Ren following her at a more sedate pace.

Meanwhile a Hunter dreamed.

(-)

White mist rose for a few feet off the ground, gently twirling through the air, before fading away to give the air a faint cloudy quality and rendering the ground indistinct unless one looked straight down.

From his place atop the coffin the Hunter paid attention to none of this, more than used to it by now. He instead focused on the feeling of Doll running her hands through his hair while his head lay in her lap. Ever since it had grown back she'd seemed almost enamored with the white strands, a result of his less-than-healthy eating habits before venturing to Yharnam after which they had ceased entirely; unless one counted the blood, playing with it or 'combing' it whenever she got the chance.

She failed to see the irony.

Leaning against the impromptu seat/bed laid the Burial Blade, a final 'gift' from Gehrman which one of his hands hung by lazily. The same hand that was now being tugged on, lifting it up he spotted the source: a small vaguely human creature with pale, green skin and sunken black pits for eyes. He moved his hand over and let the Messenger off onto his stomach where he/she/it curled up and seemingly went to sleep.

He huffed and leaned back, his arm going back to resting within easy reach of the Burial Blade, while he wasn't as fond of them as Doll was, he had begun to see how they could, vaguely, be considered cute. That they acted a lot like cats definitely helped. He'd always liked cats.

After resting for a few more seconds he sighed internally, he didn't want to ruin the pleasant moment but they needed to decide on a course of action, "Doll."

Her fingers stopped but didn't retract. He tried not to look disappointed, they were surprisingly soft.

"What should we do next?"

She tilted her head and thought it over. "It matters not to me, so long as I remain by your side." Having said her piece she went back to playing with his hair.

He sighed outwardly this time, he hadn't expected any differently but he'd been hoping for at least something; though he didn't really have room to talk, as long as he was with her nothing else really mattered to him either. Though now that he thought about it, did they have to do anything? He was pretty sure he didn't need food or drink and she was a doll. If they chose to they could remain in this clearing for the rest of their lives, however long they may be.

Instead he looked back to her staring intently in a way Patches had once described as, 'profoundly persuasive'. Or 'profoundly terrifying'. They both meant the same with Patches; he was going to miss that coward.

The Plain Doll just gave off the impression of smiling; she couldn't actually make expressions, and added "Though finding a new house would be preferable."

He smiled, though it was hidden by the mask, at the small, though also large, achievement.

Then he felt something approaching, Doll and the Messenger must have sensed it too because he/she/it jumped off and faded into the ground while Doll seemed to smile sadly. He placed his hand over hers his message clear, _I'll be back soon_. She removed her hands from his head and he put his hat on.

He closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes.

His gaze met that of the boy in green and girl wielding a hammer.

(-)

"Found it," Ren said into his scroll only to be answered by continuing static, so it wasn't just cameras being affected. However they'd come prepared. Pulling out a flare gun Ren pointed it up and pulled the trigger, sending a red stream up into the air which the others would hopefully see.

He turned back to the person lying on the coffin in the clearing who, though they were too far away to see, they could feel glaring at them. It was probably the only reason why Nora hadn't gone running up to him… yet.

"Ooh, ooh, Ren what do you think is with the coffin? Do you think it's his weapon, oooh, do you think it shoots anything? Bullets? Rockets? Littler coffins?"

"Nora,"

She stopped and looked at him "Yeah?"

"I don't think that's his weapon," Ren had seen some rather… creative weapons used by fellow Hunters but a coffin was taking it a bit far. "He has a sword."

Looking back Nora noticed that, yes, next to him was a heavily curved sword.

Nora pouted "Aah, coffin gun." Ren pat her shoulder and examined the stranger as well as he could from the edge of the clearing. He'd go closer but…

He eyed the knife embedded in a nearby tree at eye level.

…Ren could take a hint. The man was dressed oddly, to say the least. A duster, tricorn hat, and face mask along with gloves and large boots made it so that little to none of the actual person could be seen, with his coat and pants being dark grey and everything else various shades of black he looked almost like a living shadow.

This made the coffin stand out all the more, which was really saying something. Though for the most part made of a dark metal, the locks, handles, and an engraving on the front; which the man mostly blocked, looked to be made of copper which, judging from the shine visible even from there, had been polished recently.

Ren turned his head and nodded in acknowledgement when Jaune and Pyrrha came through the bushes behind them. Then he checked on Nora who'd been unusually quiet for the past few minutes which was never a good sign. And she was gone.

'Oh, please, _please_ let her have not-'

"Why's Nora walking up to the guy with the coffin?"

'Why Nora, _why?'_

"Also who's the guy with the coffin?"

(-)

'_Honestly Ren, nothing's going to get done if you just wait around all day,'_ Nora thought as she approached the stranger who seemed to get angrier the closer she got. But Nora wasn't too worried about that the guy had seemed like he was sleeping before and was probably just cranky from waking up, she knew Ren could get really irritable when woken up. Not with her but one time he'd sent Jaune running with just a glare. Ha, that'd been hilarious. Enough reminiscing though, having gotten moderately close and completely ignoring the others shout-whispering for her to 'get back here he could be dangerous' she spoke up "Hi!"

The Hunter just stared at the strange girl for a second before raising a hand and waving it.

Nora smiled, "SO I'm Nora, what's your name?" Now that she was closer she could make out the white hair peeking out from the back of the hat.

The man, she was pretty sure it was a guy, shook his head slowly.

"You won't tell me your name?" Nora asked.

He pointed at himself and shook his head again.

"You don't have one?"

He nodded.

Nora gasped in, no not sympathy, excitement. "Does that mean I can name you?!"

His eyes widened in terror.

"Nora!" She turned around.

"Yeah, Ren?"

"Please don't run off like that,"

"But we were just sitting there and it was boring!"

The Hunter watched the two converse in confusion. So they weren't here to kill him? Granted they hadn't shown any hostile intent earlier but well… Old habits die hard. He sighed; he'd better apologize for threatening them then.

He coughed, interrupting their decidedly one sided conversation and bringing their attention to him. "My apologies," They both blinked. He pointed at the tree with the knife in it. "Threat." Gods it still didn't feel right when he talked, it never had since his tongue was cut out when he was thrown into the asylum.

Wait asylum? When was-

He groaned gripping his head. Damn memories. Damn Eyes.

However neither Ren nor Nora noticed this instead figuring out what he meant by 'threat'_'_ "He thought we were Grimm," Ren said, relaxing now that he knew Nora hadn't just run up to a potential murderer. "Apology accepted," he nodded to the stranger.

The Hunter nodded and went back to lying on the coffin.

Before Ren could finally ask just why the man had a coffin Jaune and Pyrrha walked up and Jaune beat him to it.

"What's with the coffin?" Jaune's answer came in the form of the mystery man glaring at him as if he'd just insulted his mother. Jaune chuckled nervously and stepped back. The Hunter huffed and went back to lying against the coffin.

The group stood awkwardly for a second before Ms. Goodwitch stepped out of the tress and, with a glance at the stranger, made her way over to JNPR. "Team JNPR report."

"Ah," Jaune spoke up "Ren and Nora found him," he gestured to the stranger, "and sent up the signal, Ms. Goodwitch."

"He is the source of the abnormalities?" Glynda pointed at him.

"Uh, we think?" Jaune responded.

Glynda sighed and directed her attention to the man. She looked confused at the coffin but ignored it for now. "Sir?"

…

"I believe he's fallen asleep," Pyrrha said.

Glynda frowned and spoke louder this time, "SIR."

This time his eyes cracked open and he raised his head groggily. He stared at Glynda accusatorily. JNR barely suppressed laughing, not many people dared show anything but the utmost respect to Ms. Goodwitch. Pyrrha just sighed.

"Are you responsible for the dead zone?"

He blinked then after a moment shrugged.

Glynda frowned down at him and opened her mouth-

But was cut off when he raised a finger. He frowned in concentration for a few seconds then:

"Glynda! Can you hear me?" Ozpin's voice spoke up over her scroll. Glynda blinked down at it, threw a glance at the coffin-man, and answered.

"Yes, Ozpin I can hear you. We found the source of the disturbance and he's agreed to stop."

"Yes, we can see that now. However, congratulations will have to wait because with nothing keeping them away anymore the Grimm are converging on your location. We're sending a Bullhead but you'll have to hold them off until it gets there."

"Understood," she ended the call and looked to JNPR. More specifically Jaune.

He stared back, what was- "Oh! Uh, take up defensive positions everyone."

They nodded and left to do just that. Jaune turned towards the mystery man, he didn't look scared but, hey, Pyrrha didn't look insecure. "You wait here, don't worry we're Hunters we-"

He pointed at himself.

Jaune blinked. "Y-you're a Hunter?"

He nodded.

Jaune decided not to question this; though he was confused when the guy stood up, finally, and grabbed a weird folded stick with bits of cloth along with his curved sword, which kind of looked like a big sickle now that he was looking at it. The Hunter patted the coffin and moved over towards where he, but none of the others, could sense the 'Grimm' coming from.

(-)

"SoheisthecauseoftheabnormalGrimmactivity?" Oobleck said before taking a sip of coffee.

"It would appear so, Oobleck." Ozpin replied before taking a sip of his own coffee.

Port, the only one there not addicted to caffeine, instead stroked his moustache in thought. Watching the video feed he paid careful attention to the subject of the other two professor's discussion, specifically, a particular trait to his fighting.

Watching the man step under the swing of a Beowulf and then slice it open with ease when just a minute ago he'd barely avoided near fatal injury from an even younger one Port's eyes widened behind his very bushy eyebrows. "Quite the remarkable fighter this one," he added. And no visible aura so it wasn't a semblance like Miss Xiao Long.

"Yes, he is," Ozpin replied continuing to watch thoughtfully. _'So he sees it too,'_ thought Port, _'Seems Beacon will be getting a new student.' _Port smiled and let out a 'oho!' when the man spun around, deflected an attack from a Beowulf that had been sneaking up on him, and kicked it away sending two others to the ground and, judging from the smoke, killing the first.

Then one got near the coffin.

Port could honestly say that was the first time he'd ever seen someone rip a Grimm in half with their bare hands.

(-)

When the Bullhead finally arrived the Grimm had mostly been whittled down to just a few Ursa and a handful of Boarbatusks, whatever had been causing the Grimm to avoid the area had seemed to come back, albeit weaker than before given the fact that their scrolls and the plane were stilling working and that only most of the Grimm had ran away.

Hopping into the aircraft Pyrrha spoke up, "What about him?" They turned towards the mystery man, who was busy examining the coffin for any damage and sagged in relief when he found none.

JNPR turned towards Ms. Goodwitch, "He will be coming with us." They turned back to him- and he was asleep. The teacher scowled, "Wake up!"

His head snapped up from the coffin, he slowly turned and glared at the 'Good witch'.

"Get in the ship."

He glanced at the ship and, clutching the coffin, shook his head. He still had nightmares about the crow he wasn't getting in that thing.

"You can bring the coffin," she added.

Eyes wide he clutched the coffin even tighter, _he_ wouldn't even get in it no way in hell was he letting it anywhere near her!

"Come on! You just took on a bunch of monsters! How can you be scared of flying?" Nora piped up.

"Nora,"

"Hmm?" she turned around. Ren pointed to Jaune who was breathing heavily and looked about ready to pass out. "Ah."

Glynda sighed, "The _coffin_ will be fine."

He looked like he would 'protest' more, but instead stopped.

The Hunter thought about how in the brief glimpse of Dream he'd seen Doll had been examining the flying piece of metal with no small amount of interest. He sighed, and got up _'for her'_. Picking up the coffin he wrapped his arm around a strap on the bottom, and lifted it onto his back.

The whole of team JNPR nearly burst out laughing at the sight, not only was it taller than he was it was wider too. He walked over and, hesitantly, got into the Bullhead, before setting down his demented backpack and near clinging to it.

They'd seen this man rip a Beowulf in half with his bare hands.

**(-)**

**Think I'll end it there for today. Let me know what you think in the reviews or PMs. Have a nice day/night/whatever.**


	2. Getting through Customs

**I do not own RWBY, Demon's Souls, Dark Souls, or Bloodborne.**

**Sorry for the long wait, but I was having a bit of trouble with the, actually I'll explain at the end instead. Almost-insignificant-spoiler, but still spoiler.**

**(-)**

The Hunter focused on breathing that was something people did when scared right? He would not know he usually just killed whatever scared him. Speaking of scared the blond boy looked suitably disturbed as well. Smart kid, he felt young so 'kid' was probably accurate, the Hunter decided he liked him.

The others, however… The orange haired girl, a Valkyrie, that had wanted to _name him, _thankfully she seemed to have forgotten, had not stopped talking since the metal creature had taken flight. The green one reminded him of Lucatiel quiet but still friendly only less depressing and with no fancy hat, though he did have a pink stripe in his hair. The red one she felt strong, and also reminded him of someone though he could not remember, _had not remembered_, who.

The last one the 'Good witch', he wondered what she did to receive that title Yuria and Beatrice had been only 'regular' witches and the less said about the Hemlocks the better, seemed stern and professional, which he could respect, but also had been shooting questioning looks at him for most of the flight. He hoped he was not making her nervous, he had been told he could come across as intimidating at first glance.

He did wish she would stop waking him up though, it was becoming quite annoying. She had been talking on the incorrectly named 'scroll' for the past few seconds though, so now was probably the best time.

He closed his eyes and almost immediately started to Dream. Then nearly had a heart attack, whether he could or not did not matter, because Doll was looking out of the metal creature, understandable it was a nice view, but she leaning off the ledge to do so.

Shooting up with what was _not_ a shriek, Patches would never let him hear the end of it, he ran over and quickly pulled her in before setting her down in his lap and wrapping his arms around her. There now she couldn't fall off, and die, could dolls die?, and leave him alone again.

He looked up when he felt her take off his hat and pat his head. "I'm here, good hunter."

…

Alright but he still wasn't letting go.

(-)

The mystery man, who they still knew next to nothing about, had fallen asleep again. Was the guy just really tired or did he have some sort of sleeping disorder? Probably just liked to sleep since he hadn't fallen asleep when they'd been fighting the Grimm, and he'd seemed pretty awake, and angry, when he tore that Beowulf in half.

Jaune decided that touching the coffin fell under the same category as Yang's hair, or Blake's 'romance novels'. Do not touch. Ever.

"He was just sitting out there?" Pyrrha asked Ren and Nora.

"More napping, but yes," Ren answered.

"Did you find out what his name was?"

"No-"

"He doesn't have one!" They turned to Nora who, as usual, was excited "Which reminds me! Jaune can we keep him?"

"I- what?"

"Oh come on, we found him, and I promise to take care of him, and he's already trained to fight! Pretty please?"

"Nor-"

"Oh come on RWBY has Zwei!"

"Nora! This is a human being you're talking about-

"Or a faunus," Pyrrha added helpfully.

"Or a faunus yeah, he's not a pet!"

"Ooh… can I at least still name him?"

"I-"

"Why don't you ask him, Nora?" Ren cut in. Sometimes it was easier to just let her tire herself out. Well, 'tire' by Nora standards at least.

"Ooh good idea!" She turned to the coffin-man. "Hey! Coffin guy!"

He woke up with a jerk and-

"Wait, what happened to your hat?"

He narrowed his eyes in confusion before lifting his hand to his head. Sure enough, he only found his dull, white hair, the hat that had been there not a second ago was nowhere to be found. He reached into his duster and, somehow, pulled the missing article out before swiftly placing it back onto his head.

His eyes dared them to say a thing.

"Is it okay if we name you?"

His eyes widened in terror. He shook his head fiercely back and forth.

"Oh come on, everyone needs a name. What about Larry?"

He pointed at himself then shook his head again.

_'I don't!'_

(-)

By the time the Bullhead had gotten back to the academy Nora had gone through no less than two dozen names, and the Hunter hadn't stopped shaking his head for five minutes.

When they landed and Jaune rushed to the nearest trash can to throw up, he barely resisted joining him. Instead he took a breath to settle his stomach; again did he even have one?, lifted the coffin, and stepped back onto sweet, solid ground.

"Team JNPR," Glynda spoke up and they all stood at attention, "on behalf of Beacon, congratulations on completing your assignment, you passed with flying colors. Get some rest, you've earned it." They all nodded and made their way over to one of the buildings.

"As for you, I will be taking you to the Headmaster, please follow me," said the Good witch. So this was a school? He glanced at the buildings, completely ignoring the looks most of the students were sending him, mostly confused ones at her coffin. They were simpler than the ones at Mensis and once they got inside he could see that didn't apply to just the outside.

There were not any chandeliers, let alone one every few feet, and the walls were a plain grey color, and there did not seem to be any unnecessary decorations. Forever a 'man' of simple tastes, he decided he liked it.

They did have some trouble with the elevator though.

(-)

Crouched down he attempted to 'crab walk' into the elevator. Her coffin made a dull thud when it knocked against the entryway.

Glynda, having stood there for the past five minutes and thoroughly fed up with this nonsense, stated the obvious solution, "Just leave it."

She did not appreciate the look he sent her way.

(-)

Ozpin looked up when he heard the elevator ding and watched in relief when Glynda stepped out, she'd been taking a long time and he was starting to get worried. Then he raised an eyebrow at the peculiar sight of a man stepping out of an elevator with a coffin. One that just barely managed to fit through the door.

The man, for his part, didn't even bother to act like this wasn't an everyday occurrence. Though, strangely, he did stop and stare at Ozpin before moving forward at Glynda's prompting; though not before setting the coffin against the wall.

Ozpin smiled, "Hello, I am Professor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy and this," he gestured to the 'Good witch', "is Professor Goodwitch."

The man just blinked.

Ozpin smiled amused, "Aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

The Hunter pointed at himself and shook his head.

Ozpin cocked his head, "You are refusing to tell us your name?"

"Actually Headmaster, he apparently does not have one. Miss Valkyrie spent most of the return trip trying to give him one."

The man bristled in displeasure.

"I see," Ozpin said. He took a moment to consider the man in front of him. The clothing was old and judging by the state of it in need of a wash; so he was most likely a traveler from outside the Kingdom. His fight with the Grimm proved he was no slouch in a fight either, lending even more credence to that theory. Still though…

"Why were you in the forest?"

Almost forcing the word out the man answered.

"Lost." The only prerequisites had been 'nowhere near here' and 'no cycles'.

Ozpin eyebrow rose, the man's voice was rough and coarse from disuse; he probably hadn't talked to anyone in months. He looked at the only visible part of his body, his eyes. Two dead, black orbs that looked more appropriate for a corpse stared back.

"Who taught you how to fight?"

He pointed at himself. In his 'home' it was learn fast or die fast, usually both.

Self-taught? Impressive.

"Why are you wearing a mask?" Ozpin dearly hoped it wasn't like with Miss Belladonna. One student hiding such an integral part of themselves was more than enough for him.

"Protect," he answered. A helmet would have been preferable but those appear to have ceased existing at some point, though he very much so liked the hat.

"I see," Ozpin sagged in disappointment; another person forced to hide their own face.

Ozpin made his decision.

"I have a proposition for you…"

(-)

_'Retrieve the relic, retrieve the relic, retrieve the relic…'_

The Hunter, now with the new 'name' Logan Grey, repeated this mantra in his head. One of the few things the wildly different individuals he met could agree on was that he had a habit of wandering off. When and where did not matter he could be doing anything from trading for goods, 'talking' with someone, or even already wandering around. He just stopped, turned in a seemingly random direction, and off he went for either a minute or a week; time was hard to tell at the best of times.

So he repeated this mantra over and over again. He covered his mouth as he yawned; he was still quite drained from his and Doll's departure. He looked forward to dreaming with her when he returned.

_'Retrieve the relic, retrieve the relic…'_

He was going through 'initiation' a form of entrance ceremony where he had to prove himself worthy in order to enter Beacon Academy. Ozpin had informed him the only reason he was going through it was because it was tradition one of the very few social norms the Hunter understood, and he could certainly understand the need for it, best to cull the worthwhile Hunters from the batch. Though he didn't appreciate being launched from the cliff, it was only because of his and Patches tradition involving cliffs that he had survived. He really was going to miss Patches; the noises he made while begging for forgiveness never failed to bring a smile to his lips, when he had them at least. He wondered if the Good witch would beg, she had launched him off the cliff after all.

(-)

Glynda Goodwitch examined her desk. Specifically she examined where it had suddenly, and quite inexplicably, split perfectly down the middle. Odd, her control hadn't slipped like that in years.

She turned back to the video feed of their potential new student. Though nothing had happened since he'd entered the forest, the Grimm seemed to be avoiding him again.

(-)

Most likely not. Witches tended to be rather prideful.

He also wondered if he would encounter anymore of those creatures of this world's Dark. He had yet to encounter any since reentering the forest. Perhaps he was scaring them off again.

He stopped walking when he realized that he had entered a clearing. In the middle of it were the ruins of what had once been a rotunda. Walking to it he found a number of pedestals with small metal pieces atop each one. They were… chess pieces? Yes, he remembered chess, two people played against each other moving one piece at a time with a different style of movement for each piece. He wondered if you killed the loser like in all the games he played. Probably not, that seemed to only apply for Undead, Hunters, and whatever he was in Boletaria. Ghost? Specter? He did not know. Nor did he care, actually.

He is mildly surprised to find any game from his original world in this one though. Mayhaps the game was played differently here. He picked a piece at random and pocketed it. He looked around again to make sure there were not any creatures waiting in ambush. That had been surprisingly uneventful.

This was why he was completely surprised when the giant snake burst from the ground and swallowed him whole.

(-)

Okay, not really.

Rolling to the side, he didn't bother to examine the creature as he normally would have; instead slashing down into it with his sword. It was only thanks to his inhuman strength that he didn't lose his weapon or his arm doing so and managed to take full advantage of the snake's momentum. When it finally exited the ground fully it was with a long cut trailing down it's side and appeared to be dead.

He pulled out the cannon and blew up it's head to be sure. When he noticed the other head, he threw an oil urn and then a Molotov onto it. As the raging flames consumed the head, he decided it was most likely dead and once again checked the area for any more creatures. When he saw nothing else he turned and began walking back towards the cliff. He wondered what was happening with Doll.

(-)

At the cliff, Ozpin stood with a scroll showing Logan progressing back from the forest temple in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He took a sip from his coffee cup. He glanced up from his scroll at the coffin sitting against a nearby tree. His expression gave away none of his thoughts about the coffin or its contents; especially not the fact that if he focused all of his attention on it he could, just barely, pick up the tiniest, faintest residue of aura.

He looked back to the video feed. Whatever was in there wasn't alive, of that he was certain, and didn't appear to be a threat so he would leave it alone, for now.

"Ah, it seems Mr. Grey has run into a bit of trouble."

(-)

The Hunter stopped and looked around the clearing. He noted the no less than two dozen Beowolves; he had overheard the yellow boy refer to them by that moniker, which surrounded him. He thrust his right hand down in a well practice maneuvered and pulled up the now completely formed Burial Blade.

The Beowolves continues to circle.

He took a deep breath, which he probably didn't need.

Seven of the Beowolves charged forward.

He rolled forward and sliced upwards cutting one open from bottom to top. Ducking down to avoid the swipes from the other he swung the scythe around and managed to cut four of them in half. He noted that they were much less durable as well.

Wait, there had been-

Pain shot up his arm as the seventh managed to score a hit, leaving a bloody cut on his shoulder. He ignored the pain and managed a one handed swing in retaliation. The Beowulf retreated to the back of the pack clutching the stump where it's left arm used to be. He glanced at his shoulder; the wound wasn't deep and thanks to her tear was already healing. He focused back on the circling wolves and spun his scythe in an unnecessary and showy manner. He figured he had earned the right to a bit of dramatics.

Another group of Grimm charged forward this time with three in front and three behind. He waited till the last second and rolled to the side with the wolves ramming into each other and falling to the ground in a heap. The Hunter didn't waste time and sent the group flying with a shot from his cannon. There went the last of his quicksilver bullets.

He looked at the remaining beasts, they were hesitant to approach him after he had easily killed half their number. This was taking too long, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small white object and crushed it in his fist. If one looked closely they would see a dull white aura flowing off of him. Drawing his scythe back he jumped forward and disappeared into a burst of smoke, before appearing on the other side of the Beowolves a second later. The Beowolves froze for a moment before, as if by command, falling into several pieces. The Hunter sagged against a tree, they had taken more out of him then he had expected. He was really looking forward to getting back to Doll.

(-)

"Welcome back-"Ozpin caught the relic Logan tossed to him before moving past without a look. He turned to find the new student slumped against his coffin sleeping. Ozpin blinked and looked down to his hand.

It was the white rook.

_'This certainly promises to be an interesting year,'_ he thought taking a sip of coffee.

**(-)**

**Omake: Name**

Ozpin stared down at the piece of paper in his hand. After the man had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to attend his school they'd had to address the first and most pressing problem: his lack of a name. After some deliberation, read the man almost violently refusing any attempt to give him one, he and Glynda had decided to let him take care of it. After directing the new student to the part of the school library on languages, he'd returned thirty minutes later with a list of potential names.

The results were, to say the least, disturbing. Over his shoulder he heard Glynda make a sound he'd never heard before it was somewhere between a sob and groan. He didn't blame her almost every single one translated to something involving being empty/hollow or death. One literally translated to 'Waste of Skin' and it was one of the_ better ones_.

He glanced at the man currently standing perfectly at ease across from him.

"We have a very good therapist," he said slowly.

"It wouldn't help."

**(-)**

**Hello everyone, sorry for the long wait but I was having trouble making the Initiation part. Only after posting did I realize that with the Hunter's 'Anti-Grimm field' I had reduced Initiation to a complete cake walk, and was thinking on how to work around this for a few days. Eventually I decided to keep it at the 'lower yield' he put it on during the first chapter and make it so that the older Grimm will usually avoid him unless provoked while the younger ones attack him but either with an ambush, like the King Taijitu, or with large numbers, like the Beowolves.**

**Until then, hope you all have a nice day/night/whatever.**


	3. Settling In

**I do not own RWBY, Demon's Souls, Dark Souls, or Bloodborne.**

**Holy crap, it's been 4 months?**

**Last time:**

**E̶v̶e̶n̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ I̶ d̶e̶c̶i̶d̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ k̶e̶e̶p̶ i̶t̶ a̶t̶ t̶h̶e̶ '̶l̶o̶w̶e̶r̶ y̶i̶e̶l̶d̶'̶ h̶e̶ p̶u̶t̶ i̶t̶ o̶n̶ d̶u̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶e̶ f̶i̶r̶s̶t̶ c̶h̶a̶p̶t̶e̶r̶ a̶n̶d̶ m̶a̶k̶e̶ i̶t̶ s̶o̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ t̶h̶e̶ o̶l̶d̶e̶r̶ G̶r̶i̶m̶m̶ w̶i̶l̶l̶ u̶s̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ a̶v̶o̶i̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ u̶n̶l̶e̶s̶s̶ p̶r̶o̶v̶o̶k̶e̶d̶ w̶h̶i̶l̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ y̶o̶u̶n̶g̶e̶r̶ o̶n̶e̶s̶ a̶t̶t̶a̶c̶k̶ h̶i̶m̶ b̶u̶t̶ e̶i̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ a̶n̶ a̶m̶b̶u̶s̶h̶,̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ K̶i̶n̶g̶ T̶a̶i̶j̶i̶t̶u̶,̶ o̶r̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ l̶a̶r̶g̶e̶ n̶u̶m̶b̶e̶r̶s̶,̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ B̶e̶o̶w̶o̶l̶v̶e̶s̶.**

**Or the coffin, ie. Doll, could be responsible for the field as suggested by Mo Eazy, an idea that works so well I'm almost ashamed it didn't occur to me at all. So let's go with that.**

**Here's the chapter.**

**(-)**

Setting Doll's coffin against a wall the Hunter took a look around the room Doll and he would be staying in for the foreseeable future. It was the standard dorm room only with the three of the beds removed making what would be cramped for four more than enough for just the two of them. Through the windows he caught a glimpse of the moon and shut them immediately. Red or not he didn't want to see it or it to see him.

He checked the other rooms for any traps or enemies. He was pleasantly surprised to find none.

This was… home now. He frowned, something was missing. He laid the coffin down next to the bed and fell asleep.

He opened his eyes to the sight of Doll 'smiling' "Welcome home, good Hunter."

This was home now.

(-)

Walking through the halls 'Logan' tugged at the collar of his new uniform. '_Why is this so uncomfortable? Even the Cage of Mensis wasn't this bad.'_

Turning the corner he came upon a scene that had unfortunately become all too common at Beacon. Surrounding another student was team CRDL, although oddly enough their leader Cardin was nowhere to be found.

The boy with a light green Mohawk, Russel Thrush though the Hunter didn't know that was his name nor did he care, pulled on one of the girls prominent bunny ears. "What's the matter fre-"

The Hunter didn't hear the rest of what Green said not that he had actually been listening. He was far more focused on what happened next. Green, for whatever reason maybe so he could pull on the demon girl's ear harder, took a step back and, having not seen 'Logan', bumped into him.

He touched 'Logan'.

He, someone that wasn't Doll, _touched_ the Hunter someone who had, rather understandably, begun to associate any form of physical contact as an attempt on his life, though that word was tenuous at best.

Without any conscious thought the Hunter's arm became a blur and with a scream and crash Russel was sent flying through the nearby window which was shortly followed by a loud thud from the ground two stories below. The Hunter continued walking without paying a moment's attention to the gaping students beside him. After a moment Dove, Sky, and Velvet turned their horrified gazes away from the window to stare after a Beacon student they had never seen before.

'Logan' pulled at his collar some more. '_What is this made of sandpaper?'_

(-)

'Logan' looked around the classroom. Most of the students were staring at the walls or tapping away at a flat piece of glass. Most of the rest were sleeping. One was even reading a book.

So this is what school is like.

No one was trying to kill him. Weird.

He refocused his attention on the teacher and his story. He had always liked listening to people's stories even if they did often end poorly, usually when he showed up.

"…And then they made me their chief. But alas this was not the end to our problems for now I was required by tradition to father a new generation of warriors for the tribe. When Ozpin finally found me three days later I was nearly dead…"

He decided he liked school.

(-)

From where she stood by her coffin the Plain Doll stared in confusion.

"I do not understand."

The Hunter made some vague gestures with his hands whose meaning was completely lost on her. He sighed in frustration his usual way wasn't working. So he settled for the newer way, _'What do you like to do?'_

Doll blinked in confusion at the echoing words in her head. What did she… like to do? "That is… difficult to answer."

He stared at her unwaveringly in response. It should be noted that staring had been, and still was, his main form of communication for the past several millennia and as such he was able to 'say' nearly anything by doing so. _(Try)_ Then his look softened slightly _(…please)_

She thought about it, just a few years ago she would have been completely incapable of answering the question, she lived to serve her Hunter, whom so ever it was at the time, there was nothing else it was her sole reason for existing and she embraced it wholeheartedly. Or at least she thought she had. It had taken meeting someone just as lost and lonely as she had been, though he had been as unaware of it as her, for her to realize just how much she hated her purpose in life. Then he beat up an old man, killed the moon, and became a squid god.

She wondered if there were any fairytales like that.

At the thought of fairytales a long forgotten memory came to mind of when the Hunt first started and before Gehrman refused to let her into the workshop. "I believe I once liked to read."

He nodded he would see if the academy had a library.

(-)

Logan took a step into the library and paused.

No one was trying to kill him. Weird.

He continued onward then stopped again when he realized he didn't actually know how a library works. He had always used them for fighting. Like everything else.

_'How to fix this?'_

…

_'Oh, wait I have Eyes.'_

He opened his Eyes and Saw how a library works.

Someplace far away, next to a shimmering lake, for a reason not known to him a vegetable-in-a-man's-body twitched in unbridled rage.

(-)

_'I should have asked what she likes to read'_

Staring at the wall of books before him the Hunter found himself, once again, at a loss for what to do. It was happening distressingly often. He missed when he could just kill all of his problems.

After several minutes of staring at the bookshelf he became aware of a nearby presence. Turning he found a person in a black vest and white shirt sitting in a nearby seat reading a book. He noted the ears on her head and the scent of cat that clung to her. A demon, like Ornifex, or whatever Patches was now? Also had she been there the whole time? He was getting sloppy.

He would have to fix that later, for now he needed to get Doll some books. Maybe this one could help him? She was reading a book. He was quite certain that meant she would know about them.

He tapped on the table to get her attention.

She looked up at him and he bowed in greeting.

She blinked and nodded back.

He gestured to the bookshelf next to him.

She blinked in confusion.

He grabbed multiple books from the shelf and spread them out on the table. He pointed to each one shaking his head at some and nodding at others.

"…you want book recommendations?"

He nodded with a half bow.

He failed to see her ears perk up.

(-)

They were on a hill surrounded by a field of flowers. Each one glowing pale white and swaying gently in a breeze that came from nowhere. The only spot not covered in the flowers was the top of the hill where a large tree with no leaves sat and seemed to reach out and cover everything around it with a ceiling of branches. At its base was a bench where the Doll and her Hunter sat. Neither was aware of how long they had been sitting there nor how long it had been only them in this Dream. Time was hard to tell at the bests of times in places such as these.

Eventually after pondering for what could have been a minute or a year, the Hunter spoke. "Why?" Though his voice was little more than a quiet rasp in the almost reverent silence of this place Doll could hear him as clearly as she would have had he shouted.

The Doll's eyes did not move from the field. "Why what?" She would have liked to be able to understand what he meant from just the one word, after all it was rare he gave even that, but she had only known him for a night-_an eternity_,but this was alright for now she had plenty of time to learn.

"Why did you come back?" Even Doll could hear the almost desperate plea in his voice. Why did you help me? Why did you protect me?_ Why didn't you let me die?_

If she were more cynical she thinks she would laugh at the irony. Even when armed with the power of a god capable of Seeing anything he was still as blind as before, though she was hardly one to judge. It was only very recently she had her eyes, ones that had nothing to do with knowledge but everything to do with knowing, opened after all. Even more ironically by someone just as blind as her. She supposed it was now time to return the favor.

"Why do you?"

He did not answer immediately, mainly because he could not, he had never been asked before, not that he would or could have answered, and so had never thought of it. He just did. He always came back. Even when he had nothing to come back to and especially when he did not want to.

"It is all I know." From his first memories of endless fog and a maiden's voice, back when he was something closer to human but still not quite, it was the only thing that kept him moving forward; an indeterminable _need_ to return no matter what, though to what or whom he did not know.

"And now?" Doll asked.

"I cannot even do that." He answered while staring down at the body that for once felt right and at the same time more wrong than ever. A body formed from his thoughts and will but still lacking that fundamental component that made him who he was. Once more he was chained, only now they were of a different sort. Though it did come with it's benefits, he was quite certain that if he willed it hard enough he could erase himself from existence. Even he probably couldn't return from that…

"Then learn to stay. So that you will not need to come back." He glanced at her and found her staring back. There was sadness in her eyes, at losing someone she cared for; which he'd very familiar with but confused by why would she-_does she_ care, desperation, which he's seen more of than he suspects anyone else, and something else, one of the many emotions he was unaccustomed to and couldn't even hope to name, but it was light and strangely painful to see.

"I do not believe I can," he stated simply and in that moment the Doll saw more to the Hunter than anyone else ever had.

Reaching into his jacket she pulled out one of his many throwing knives. He tensed up in preparation to the perceived threat but froze when Doll instead brought the blade to her own hand and drew a thin line into it.

His eyes widened at the white blood that came out.

"A doll sheds neither blood nor tears…" she turned back to him and if she felt any pain from the wound he could not notice it. "That is twice now we have caused the impossible to happen. I believe we can manage a third."

She held out her hand. "Will you stay with me?"

He stared at the bleeding appendage. Unknown to him Doll would forever remember this as the first time she saw his eyes light up.

"It would have been smarter to not come back." The adventure was over. The journey done and his purpose fulfilled. His reason to be gone.

"I've read that love often leads to foolish actions."

…

"That it does," he murmured as he took her hand.

He may have only seen it once, exactly as many times as she felt it before now, but he easily recognized the emotion in her eyes now.

Doll was shaken from her sleep by the door to their room creaking open. She stood up and looked to her returning Hunter.

"Welcome home good…" and found a mass of books with transparent legs at the doorway. "…hunter."

He entered the seemingly empty room, completely unaware of Doll staring at him, and set the books down. They promptly fell over.

He stared for a moment then began picking them up.

She sighed and seemed to smile, "…thank you, good hunter."

(-)

In the cafeteria 'Logan' sat at an empty table away from everyone else. He knew he would become accustomed to it eventually but for now having more than 12 people in the same building as him, let alone over 20 in the same room, still unnerved him immensely. Every step he heard reminded him of the Wolf Beasts or Hollows, every time a person walked near him he prepared to dodge the inevitable attack, and the blood from his steak reminded him of enough unpleasant memories that he could spend a day listing them all.

He missed Doll.

_'In fact,' _he thought while staring down at his untouched dinner, _'why am I even here?'_ While eating would help him recover a miniscule amount faster if it meant being surrounded by so much noise and people, it was hardly worth it. Even less so if it meant he wasn't around Doll.

Speaking of which, could Doll eat? He would think not except she wasn't supposed to be able to cry or bleed either and he'd seen her do both. Oddly his face heated up at the memory of the second substance and the circumstances behind it. He wondered if he was sick, or if he could even get sick for that matter.

So, with a mind full of questions and an empty stomach, which he probably didn't have, 'Logan' got up and left the cafeteria just as a group consisting red, white, black, and yellow entered from the other doorway.

(-)

Two fighters that couldn't be more different stood against each other. One had bright blonde hair, was wearing almost mundane clothes compared to everyone else with pieces of white armor, and a white sword and shield. The other was armed white a dark grey almost sickle like sword and a bandaged stick, was wearing clothing that was odd even for a hunter that was either black or dark grey, and had dull, white hair that almost resembled ashes. Of course those were just the immediate differences.

To a trained eye, basically everyone in the audience that was paying attention or really bored, even more differences began to appear. The way they held themselves, one nervous and rigid; and the other seemingly at ease, their eyes, a pair of completely unguarded and open blue ones; and the other a pair of dull black that belonged on a corpse, even the air around them was different, an almost welcoming openness; and almost complete indifference.

To a trained eye, and most untrained to be honest, it was also painfully obvious who was going to win.

"Begin!" Glynda shouted. 'Logan' bowed and after a second of confusion Jaune copied the motion.

Jaune relaxed slightly and held his shield in front of him and his sword at his side in preparation to strike.

'Logan' meanwhile went from 'could be shot and wouldn't notice' to 'trained killer' in less than a second and before Jaune could blink appeared in front of him with a swish of his coat.

Jaune yelped but still managed a swing that forced 'Logan' to dodge. Unfortunately it was behind him where 'Logan' wasted no time in slashing at his back.

It was only thanks to his training with Pyrrha that he managed to turn around enough to block the hit with his shield, though the force behind the blow was still enough to knock him off balance which 'Logan' immediately capitalized on by sweeping out his legs and sending Jaune flying with a punch.

Rolling with his landing Jaune managed to shoot back to his feet fast enough to eat a flying kick to the face and be sent back to the ground. 'Logan' changed back to 'man actually dying of boredom' and walked towards the exit.

"Mr. Grey the match is not over," Glynda pointed out.

The Hunter just pointed up at the screen and left through the locker room door.

Glynda looked and her eyes widened. "How…?"

Jaune's aura was in the red.

In the locker room the Hunter ignored the familiar feeling of new souls being absorbed and focused on his dark hand.

He needed to speak with Doll.

**(-)**

**Omake: Last Resort**

The Hunter was old if not in body then at least in spirit, though this was true for everyone what with the cycles reincarnating everyone, but he was the only one that seemed to remember all of his lives. But this was besides the point; the point was the Hunter was old. He had personally witnessed the world being reborn twice, unless one counted relighting the First Flame in which case innumerable times, and had personally caused it once, unless one; again, counted relighting the First Flame. And in his many years he had seen and experienced a great many things, almost all of them painful and/or violent granted but still many things. This, this _thing_, however was unlike anything else he had ever encountered. For once in what felt like, and technically was, millennia he had no idea what to do. None of his usual ways of dealing with problems could help him here: he could not stab this problem, he could not burn this problem, he could not shoot this problem, and he could not _kill_ this problem.

He had but one option left.

Mustering the courage and/or foolishness that had allowed him to charge unhesitatingly at Gods, Demons, Dragons, and Things-That-Should-Not-Be; he reached down and pet the dog.

Zwei barked happily.

(-)

**Omake: Consequences**

"Oh my…" Doll murmured as blood rushed to her cheeks causing them to become even paler than the rest of her 'skin'. "Humans are rather creative aren't they?" Glancing around the room she knew was empty but had to be sure she went back to reading her newly acquired literature. "I wonder if he's trying to tell me something…" She thought and was followed by what was almost a giggle.

She flipped to the next page in Ninja's of Love.

**(-)**

**There was one part of this I liked writing, which ironically took about five minutes, and one part I didn't, which also took five minutes. I'm curious to see if you readers can spot which is which. I'm also curious how many people will see all the little allusions to the Souls and Blood games I've been packing in this story. Also Dark Souls 3's is coming out! It will either validate all my theories or grind them into the dirt and frankly I don't care which, just so long as I get to kill god with a sword that's bigger than a car again.**


	4. Culture Shock

**I do not own RWBY, Demon's Souls, Dark Souls, or Bloodborne.**

**This is pretty much just me writing whatever idea that pops into my head that I think would be fun to write****.**

**(-)**

Doll carefully watched as the Hunter paced the length of their room in agitation. '_His control is slipping' _she noted idly while along the walls veins that sprouted with her hunters return pulsed violently. They covered every inch of the room except for around where she sat atop the coffin. It looked as if someone had cut a perfect circle around her and the veins had made no attempt to enter it. Almost as if they can't.

"What is troubling you good hunter?"

He stopped and raised his right hand which was quickly covered by an unnatural looking darkness with black wisps flowing off of it.

"The… Dark Hand?" she guessed. Though he has told her of his adventures, and even shown her a few of the more interesting moments when she had asked, she still has trouble remembering them all. She was fairly certain the thousands he had spoken of where only the more eventful iterations. "From the Dark Soul?"

"Yes, though how it's here I have no idea," he answered before resuming his pacing. The veins began pulsating even more quickly. "I don't have the Dark Soul, fragment or otherwise, anymore. I got rid of it myself."

"I thought the Dark Soul did not mean you harm."

"It didn't, doesn't change the fact that it nearly destroyed the world and killed me several million times. It's dangerous, incredibly so, and I would prefer to have not accidently introduced it to this world. They already have their Dark to fight."

Doll nodded in understanding he had explained the creatures of Grimm, his latest prey, and what he suspected were their origins. What was more worrying though was the return of their original worlds Dark and it's apparent grasp on her hunter... and all that entailed.

"…does this mean she's back?" Doll asked.

The Hunter stopped moving and the whole room, veins included, seemed to freeze with him. Doll immediately regretted asking, it never failed to upset him when the Maiden was brought up.

"…no." he answered quietly. He didn't resume pacing; instead continuing to stand there and be so still it unnerved even her. He stood there for the next few minutes, his expression unchanging, before turning to her.

"You are sad," Doll answers the unasked question.

He grimaced and shifted uncomfortably. "I don't like it."

"Most do not," she responds and walks over to him, the circle of unchanged floor following her with every step.

She hesitates when she reaches him before wrapping her arms around him in a tenuous embrace, they've both grown accustomed to touching even coming to enjoy it, but actual gestures of intimacy are still mostly beyond them. If the Hunter hadn't been so terrified of her falling off of the Bullhead, an odd name considering it resembled neither, he never would have been able to hold her before.

"It's not your fault," she whispers. He looks at her oddly.

"Of course, it isn't," he states without a shred of doubt.

"Most would be feeling guilty for what happened."

"Guilt?" he says, tasting the unfamiliar word.

"When you feel remorse for an action you have performed."

He blinks.

"When you feel bad for an action you have performed."

He makes an 'oh' in understanding. He thinks of his past and the fact that almost everyone he has ever met has died by his hand, and then responds truthfully.

"I have never felt that."

"I know," she responds, seeing nothing wrong with this; she hasn't either. He shifts around so that he's facing her and can rest his head in the crook of her neck. Just as the Hunter is about to fall asleep Doll speaks up.

"Would you like me to… comfort you?" She asks with an emotion he can't identify. He ignores his instinctual response of 'no' and studies her face to try and figure out what she is feeling.

'_She is shifting around and refuses to meet my eyes,' _he notes, _'and she is rubbing her hands.'_

This reminded him of something.

…

Oh! This was like with Yuria. She had always grown uncomfortable when he was near. Constantly shifting around and never meeting his eyes. He had even caught a glimpse of her face growing red when he could sneak a look under that hat of hers and then it growing redder when he had tried to check if she was sick. He knew he could be unsettling but he couldn't think of anyone he made as nervous as her, except maybe Patches-

Oh, nervous! That was it. Doll was nervous. He silently congratulated himself on divining the answer to this most important of puzzles.

…

He still had no idea what to do.

Damn! He had deduced the emotion but not a solution.

Fuck it, he was thinking about this too much. He'd just react on instinct like he always did.

He nodded.

"Alright," Doll says and mimics a deep breath. She looks down to him and starts.

"She made her choice and, though it is unfortunate, that was the path it lead to," she explained calmly. "You could not have known what would happen nor should you blame yourself that it did." Doll wracked her brain thinking of something else to add on. "And if it had not gone the way it had… then we would have never met." She finished hesitantly.

…

He wraps his arms around her slowly. Dolls eyes widen and her arms unconsciously tighten around him even as he shifts to get more used to the unfamiliar gesture.

"Do you feel better?"

"I don't know," he answers truthfully. "Thank you." He's certain that only Doll knows him well enough to hear the unsaid 'for caring enough to try'.

She 'smiles' and nuzzles into his hair.

The moment was eventually ended a few minutes later with someone knocking at the door. The Hunter barely resisted shooting it.

(-)

The door opened and a blonde woman with a cape and wand was standing outside it. He got ready to jump out of the way of the sneak attack, but when she didn't move except to look at him he relaxed.

'Logan' raised an eyebrow in question.

"Ozpin wishes to see you," Glynda answered the unspoken question, "do you remember the way to his office?"

He shook his head.

"Then if you will follow me, I shall escort you," she paused in thought for a moment before grimacing slightly, "Will the… coffin be coming with you?"

He looked back into the room and Doll waved goodbye. He waved back and turned to Goodwitch. "She is staying."

Glynda glanced into the empty room and frowned in confusion. "Very well, please follow me," she stated and turned to go.

'_She?' _Glynda wondered.

(-)

Ozpin peers down at the paper before him and, once more, ponders its full significance and all the implications it brings. Half of it was the printed font found on all Beacon registration forms, but the other consisted of what looked like actual chicken scratch placed in all the points a student would fill out their information. If it weren't for the fact that some of the scratches resembled each other and, upon closer inspection from both him and Oobleck, did seem to form a pattern, he'd think a student was nearly wasting their chance to learn at Beacon for a joke.

A series of beeps told him that Glynda had returned with the 'perpetrator'.

The elevator doors slide open with Glynda and Logan stepping out.

It was almost amazing how many other questions Ozpin had that were answered in just the time it took for Logan to walk up to him, and how many more it rose. Just like last time, the moment Ozpin was in sight Logan's eyes jumped straight to him. Something about Ozpin clearly put the young man on edge, though you could hardly tell from his body language. Still completely relaxed and radiating the same apathy to everything around him as always. But the way his eyes never left Ozpin definitely suggested that he thought of him as a threat. _'Or at least the primary one,' _Ozpin thought when he noticed that Logan had positioned himself just close enough behind Glynda to be able to enter her guard before she could successfully turn to attack.

But there weren't any signs of him faking his nonchalance, so that meant he was legitimately at ease even when he felt threatened? If so, that brought forth more questions. All of which pointed towards Mister Grey having a violent past. Unfortunately, that wasn't an especially rare circumstance for a hunter. Ozpin only hoped that the scars would be minimal and that Logan would be all the stronger for it.

Though it did bring to mind the fact that he had paused during their first encounter long enough to put down the coffin. Ordinarily Ozpin would have choked this up to Logan wanting to not be restricted but he had shown a considerable attachment to it and whatever was inside. So, he was fine with himself being in danger but not the coffin, and whatever its contents might be?

Interesting.

He turned the paper around and pushed it towards Logan. "Could you please explain what this is?"

Logan glanced at the paper for only a moment then returned to staring at Ozpin.

"Paper."

Glynda frowned at the response but Ozpin held up a hand before she could reprimand Logan.

"I meant what's on it."

"Words," Logan replied without missing a beat.

Ozpin couldn't tell whether or not he was joking.

"Can you read this?" he pointed towards the scratches.

Logan nodded.

"What does this say?" he pointed to the one next to **Name:**

"Logan."

"And this?" he pointed to the word immediately next to it.

"Grey."

He pointed to the one next to **Age:**

The same set of symbols appeared in multiple places on the form, including **Mother's Name:**, **Father's Name:**, and **Place of birth:**.

"Unknown."

"You don't know how old you are?"

Logan nodded his head. By the time he had learned you were supposed to keep track it was already too far gone.

"And this?" He pointed to the symbol next to **Next of kin:**

"Doll."

…

Ozpin could feel the headache coming.

(-)

She was being chased. By what she didn't know and for now she didn't care. All she knew was that whatever it was had her instincts screaming at her to run and if she stopped she would die. The snarls and growling coming from just a few feet behind her did nothing to discredit this notion. Whatever they were they were fast, maybe not as much as a Beowulf, but definitely enough to outrun most humans. It was only thanks to her being agile enough to duck and weave through the trees around them that they hadn't managed to catch her yet.

One of the things chasing her barked, if the grotesque gurgling sound could be called that, a signal(?) they gave out whenever they were about to lunge, maybe to worn the others to get out of the way. She ducked down just in time for it to go sailing over her and into one of the grey trees. She only spared it a glance before continuing to run but what she saw was plenty motivation to move even faster.

The beast laden with eyes rose and resumed the chase.

(-)

Ozpin stared. He idly noted that Glynda was doing the same but at least had the benefit of Logan not staring back at her.

"You…" he gestured towards Logan. Logan continued to stand there wearing his perpetual apathy like a second skin. "You're married?"

Logan shook his head.

"We shall spend the rest of our lives together," he answers with neither hesitation nor sarcasm.

Ozpin hopes he doesn't look as confused as he is.

"That's the same thing," he explains.

Logan frowns in confusion.

"I thought marriage was for making children?" Human ones, at least, there was a multitude of ways for making Great One children.

Ozpin shoots Glynda a look that can best be summed up as: 'What'.

Glynda shrugs helplessly.

"No," Ozpin stated slowly.

"Huh," Logan murmured absently. He supposed it was a good thing that Annalise had declined then, besides the fact that it would kill her. "Then where do babies come from?"

Ozpin dropped his head into his hands and contemplated jumping out the window.

(-)

The forest had eventually ended, not even tapering off just stopping in a straight line, and she had ended up in a clearing that stretched farther than she could see. The beasts, whatever they were, had noticed the abrupt lack of obstacles for her to dodge around and had quickly blocked her off from reentering the forest, showing intelligence that she was incredibly glad the Grimm didn't. Now they were circling her, each one silently watching, an act made even more unnerving given the fact that half their bodies were made of eyeballs, and waiting for some unknown signal to lunge.

Then one of them barked and the next second they were barreling down on her. She raised her arms to try and guard what little she could from damage and-

Everything froze.

The beasts, the trees, even her, the whole world stopping as if someone had hit pause on a movie.

She only had a moment to freak out before something caught her eye. Specifically some_one_.

Where just a second ago there had been no one now a man was standing at the edge of the tree line staring at them. All she could make out of him was a mixture of black and dark grey with a pointy hat. Though even if she could tell what he was wearing his color would have stood out more. Now that she was looking at something with it she noticed how _grey_ everything else was. The trees, the beasts, even the sky were the same dull shade. She wasn't even sure how she could see there wasn't any light coming from anything but, then, there wasn't any dark either.

Where was she?

Then the man was suddenly standing in front of her, arm raised to her face and-

(-)

-he flicked her forehead sending the girl careening out of the Dream and back into the Waking World. The Hunter frowned at the frozen beasts floating beside him and noted the terror that filled every one of their numerous eyes.

"Bad dogs," he stated and flicked his hand. Each of them dissolved and faded into the Dream without a sound.

He looked back to where the girl of red, though here she lacked even that, had been and studied the ground intently. He turned and followed the trail she had taken through the woods. He wanted to make sure she hadn't left anything. The dream was annoying enough to maintain without any outside influence.

He inevitably shuddered when the thought of how Headmaster Ozpin thought human procreation worked came back to his mind.

All that _touching_.

He shuddered again and desperately tried to _forget_.

(-)

Meanwhile Ruby Rose jolted awake in bed from a half remembered dream and Ozpin tried his best to his best to forget with a 'special blend' of coffee.

**(-)**

**Omake: Why the Hunter became a… Hunter…**

"How would you like to be a part of my school?"

The Hunter doesn't have to say yes. There is literally nothing compelling him to and he doesn't need anything so having a job is irrelevant at best. But there is also no reason to decline either. With just him and Doll for the rest of their, possibly endless, lives they would no doubt grow bored eventually. Napping and stroking his hair had to grow dull at some point.

The Hunter internally shrugged and nodded.

He had nothing better to do.

**~Alternate 1:**

The Hunter thinks about the fact that he literally doesn't know how to do anything else but kill things. He'd tried to learn some other craft before. He'd even gotten a job as a baker. His kill count had risen exponentially. Even he had found the mountains of corpses he left in his wake obscene.

He doesn't even hesitate to nod.

**~Alternate 2:**

The Hunter turns to you, "I'm The Hunter, what the fuck else am I gonna do?"

**Omake 2: Innocent**

Doll stared into the Hunters eyes and gently leaned forward.

The Hunter felt himself growing warmer until she stopped just before touching him.

She stared unblinking into his eyes and he stared back.

Then she spoke, each syllable rolling off her tongue with a pleasure that almost bordered on the obscene.

"Go fish."

He pouted and drew another card.

Doll was insanely good at card games.

**Yeah, I can't write romance. Also 2 omakes to make up for the short chapter. **

**And a bit of trivia!**

**Did anyone know the shaft to a scythe is called a snaft? Well it is, and it does not look nor sound like a real word. Have a nice day/night/whatever.**


End file.
